Page out of the Book
by pop the bubbles
Summary: Transported into the Harry Potter books one faithful night, Amy is about to learn it's not as exciting as it sounds. Who wants her there and why? Things are going to get interesting... 6th book. R&R!
1. Through the Book

A Day In The Life

**Disclaimer**: Okay, u know the drill: not mine, J.K. Rowling's…. nothing is mine….. damn cruel world….anyway…

**Summary**: Amy Clairtonare lives in our world, the world of reality, but one fateful night, that world is tossed upside down, and she's transported into the world of Harry Potter! But who wants her there, and why? (Author's Note: okay, so I suck at summaries, so sue me) also, i thought this story up post fifth book, and it wouldn't work post sixth, so please bear with me.

**!Before u read!**

Okay, whatever I'll need to write before any chapters, I'll write here. Number one: PLEASE REVIEW! I really need ur honest opinions b/c i can't improve unless u help me. oh, and if u review plz tell me if u'd rather have short or long chapters. And number two: i'm sorry if i don't update very often in the near future, believe it or not, i'm having a major homework overload (yuck).

Also, the story goes: I thought this up before the sixth book came out (see above), I wrote the first few chapters, and then I stopped like…'till now. Now I'm re-fix-a-rating them and hopefully continuing. And they all lived happily ever after. End of story.

Well, that's all for now, hope u enjoy!

P.S. Hey Joy! Made her American just for you

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**Chapter One**

There was nothing unusual about it at first glance. It had arrived in the mailbox with the usual junk and bills that afternoon, carefully wrapped in very regular crisp, brown paper and sent to the door via a very regular mail truck. It was a fairly thick, heavy, square parcel, with a few stamps of owls. On the front, scrawled in small, neat print were these words:

_**Amelia Clairtonare**_

_**3 Alfemore Road**_

_**Brooktown, **_

_**SD, USA**_

At the time its recipient, 16 year old Amy, was just on her way home from soccer practice ( A/N: football, whichever works best for you. Just using American since that's where she's supposed to be from), blissfully unaware that anything universe imploding had been sent to her door, addressed to none other than herself.

If anyone knew what this package had arrived to do, they would have been slightly surprised; why choose exactly Amy? She was more or less average in any way on the outside. Average height, elbow length blonde hair, and hazel eyes, she never really bothered with her appearances as much as the girls around her. She didn't even fit into any clichéd category that one tends to put people in. If one were to judge her by what met the eye, they wouldn't dwell on it for too long.

The first thing that caught her eye when she came to the door was the package. Amy was going to open it as soon as she got to her front door, but then stopped. _It could be anything_, she thought, _anything from _

_anyone... it could be dangerous_. She may have seemed to be over reacting, but then again, no one **ever** sent her mail, and if they did, it would only be a birthday card every year from her Aunt Gale and Uncle Peter.

Plus, she hadn't been called Amelia since four years ago, when she was twelve on a trip to her grandparents'

house and the woman at the airport had read her passport aloud. Maybe it was from them, but then again, they would have definitely have put their return address on the back, which this package was clearly missing.

That brought her to another idea: _a secret admirer_! But just as quickly as she left planet earth, gravity got hold of her. Who was she kidding? No one had crushed on her seriously since the third grade!

Deciding not to trouble herself any more with that thought, she turned her attention back to the parcel. _Well, why not?_ _Whatever it is can't be_** that**_ terrible, right_?

She let herself in, flung the mail on the counter in her kitchen, ran to her room, and was about to tear the parcel open when she heard the click of her front door being opened.

"Honey, I'm here! Did you get the mail? The box is empty!" It was her mother; she was home from work early. Amy groaned inwardly, the box would just have to wait.

"Yeah, I got it, it's in the kitchen!" Amy called back.

"Could you come down here? I need you to help with dinner tonight!"

"Okay, I'm on it!" Amy said, losing hope, and absent mindedly shoving the box under her bed.

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The rest of the day went by normally; dinner, T.V., and then homework. Amy had forgotten about what lay under her bed completely.

It was already 11:30 by the time she climbed into her bed, exhausted from the history project that she had been finishing. Her mind was already in that half asleep state, with King Henry the eighth weaving repeatedly in and out of her groggy thoughts when she felt something prodding at her sub consciousness. She felt as if she had forgotten something, something important… What was it? She turned over, trying to get some sleep, but it just wouldn't come. She tried to retrace her steps, and then it hit her: the parcel, it was still under her bed!

She stuck her hand under her bed and felt around for it. Sure enough, she'd hit something hard, and picked it up, inspecting it in the faint moonlight outside her window.

Somehow, it looked different, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Her heart skipped a beat; it had moved, she was sure of it. Like a quick pulse, or the single tick of a clock. She dropped it on her bed, and examined it again. It looked normal enough, so she decided that it had only been her imagination. Ever so slowly, she began to tear the package by the edges. She then slid out the contents: a piece of parchment and a fairly thick book.

By now, Amy could barely contain her excitement, and hastily switched on her lamp by the side of her bed. She decided to read the note first. There, in the same small, neat print, were these words:

_**Amelia,**_

_**Wait for 12:00. **_

_**Open the book.**_

_**Do not be afraid.**_

_**-HMD**_

She read over it a second time, and then a third. _It was definitely easy enough to understand, but why? And who was HMD... And who even used their middle initial to sign a letter?_ This was getting stranger by the minute. Maybe she shouldn't open it... but then again, what would happen? Her curiosity got the best of her... she'd just peek at the cover, _that was okay, right_? It didn't say anything about looking at the book's cover.

Harry Potter and... Amy read. What was...? She looked really closely at the dots; they weren't tiny letters as she'd expected them to be, it just looked like someone had trailed off in the middle of their sentence. That was strikingly peculiar, but she decided to let it pass. Maybe she should open it like the note had said, exactly at 12:00 and find out what kind of secret was being kept in between the covers.

After a momentary relapse of her conflict of curiosity, she decided and glanced at her digital clock: 11:59 and 50 seconds... 51... 52...Amy felt her alms start to sweat, she didn't know why, but she was feeling nervous...54...55... Her heart beat faster and faster, like she was about to take off...57... The lights began to flicker on and off, and the book began trembling viciously. Amy wanted to drop it, but just couldn't do it, as if some invisible power was binding her to it...58...59...Amy opened the book to the first page, which was completely blank, except for one single sentence, written in the middle of the page in the same handwriting as before:

**_Amy woke up with a terrible headache._**

But Amy wasn't even there to read it, because in a flash of bright light, she'd disappeared.

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Mysterious enough for you? Well guess what, I'm not telling! You'll have to read it yourself! WAHAHAHAHAHAHA... Sorry, too much sugarless gum... anyway, PLEASE

R&R! I BEG YOU!


	2. the Voice and the Train

**!Before u read!**

THANK U GUYS SOOOO MUCH FOR REVIEWING! I can't tell u how cool u r! OK, i'm going to try and get this chapter up without mistakes, but it just won't work! The following content may not be suitable for younger readers: DAMN!

**Dedication-** i forgot to put it in the 1st chapter so here it goes: I thought up of this while visiting my late grandfather's house, so this is for him.

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Chapter 2

Amy woke up with a terrible headache. She wasn't even sure she had been asleep, but she her eyes had been closed, and now, she couldn't bring herself to open them, for the pain in her head was doubling. It felt as if someone had hit her really hard in the back of her head with a boulder, or at least a metal pole. Finally, she opened her right eye with great effort, and then her left. The room swam before her eyes and she felt as if she was about to vomit . She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes again, for the light was searing and made her eyes water. Where was she? And how did she get there? The last thing she remembered was the book, then the light... then this.

_Well, then it's a dream_, Amy told herself, _a really painful dream_. Maybe she'd hit her head on her night table and was now stuck in a hallucination. _Get a grip!_ a voice in the back of her head said. Amy had to agree, if this was a dream, she could wake herself up, or at least change what was going on. She thought hard_...um... my room_! Then she opened her right eye again. Nothing. The room was beginning to get clearer, and the headache was dying away but the room was still steadily moving from right to left and back again. _Okay... um... ice cream_! she thought, and opened her eyes. Nothing again. But as the room was beginning to clear she could start to see the blurry shapes. Then, all of a sudden, there was a loud thud and everything became clear.

_Strange..._ Amy thought, in taking her new surroundings.

She seemed to have been 'sleeping' on a scarlet bench that ran along the length of two walls in the small room that she found herself in. Actually, it wasn't so much of a room, but more of a compartment... a train compartment! It was obviously night, proven by the large window to Amy's left, outside of which the stars and deep, endless black sky were racing by.

Just then another thing occurred to her; to her right another girl about her age, had been leaning against the wall, sound asleep, swaying to the train's motion across the tracks, perfectly at peace. She was shorter than Amy, with short, curly, black hair and pale-ish features. _Laura Greyson, your best friend since age eleven,_ recited a cool, metallic voice at the back of her head, like the one of the operator on a pre-recorded message. Amy looked around to see if there was someone else in the room. No one. But then where was the voice coming from and why was it there in the first place?

In the mean time, Amy was cautiously looking and down the sleeping figure, surveying her. _Wait!_ Her eyes rested on the girl's interesting choice of clothing. She was wearing a black mini-skirt and a blouse with a tie under a black cloak... with a small red crest on it. Amy leaned in closer, trying not to wake her up. Amy let out a quiet gasp of surprise... scarlet and gold, with a small roaring lion and the word _**Gryffindor**_ inscripted under it.

Which brought Amy's attention to another question: what was she wearing? The last she remembered, she'd been in her pajamas in her bedroom, but as she looked down at herself now, she was wearing the same thing as Laura (as she was presumably called). She stared at her badge, transfixed, trying to make head or tail of the situation. _Wait a second, the beginning of the book's title... it said Harry Potter, right?_ So maybe she was- but that was absurd! _Then again, thisis just a dream,_ Amy convinced herself. _Yeah, sure_, said a sarcastic voice in her head, _prove it_. Amy pinched herself hard, discovering that it hurt just as much as it would when she was awake. _That's because you**are** awake!_ the voice replied, annoyed.

Deciding to put all her unanswered questions away for a few moments, Amy spotted the door leading out of the compartment, and went out into the long, thin corridor, peeking into the compartments on either side, hoping to see something, or someone familiar, no such luck. Although, every once in a while, the metallic voice would startle her and recite something like: _Alan Stone, fifth year, Hullepuff_, or _Shana Miscorne, third year, Slytherin_. By now it was becoming completely apparent that Amy was definitely in some kind of Harry Potter dream... or reality, as the voice in her head reminded her.

She was getting farther and farther down the hall, and then, just in front of her, the door to her right opened from the inside. Amy hid behind the door, pressing herself up against the wall. What if she'd get kicked off the train? She didn't know how she got there, and definitely wouldn't be able to explain it.

A boy, about her age, or maybe a little older, slid out of the compartment door and looked first to his left, and then to his right. Being in her position, Amy saw only the back of the boy's head, which was covered in slick, blond hair. The boy closed his door soundlessly and headed down the corridor, Amy, of course, following cautiously behind. He stopped about four feet away from a door labeled BOYS with a little picture of the usual bathroom man underneath. Nothing suspicious there, Amy guessed, and was about to make her exit, when she realized something; the boy was holding a wand. Now, Amy wondered, exactly why would someone be going to the bathroom with a wand? As far as she knew, nothing you could POSSIBLY do in there would require one of those. So she stayed behind, watching the boy intensely.

For a few minutes he did nothing, but just stood there, staring blankly at the door. But then, there was the sound of the sink and the unlocking of the door. The boy placed himself in the door frame, so that his unexpecting victim wouldn't be able to get out. Amy didn't like the looks of things, but decided to keep watching. The scene unfolded rather quickly in front of her eyes:

A figure that Amy couldn't see over the first boy's back emerged from the bathroom, the expecting boy standing in his way.

" Well, I see your posse isn't here to protect you now," sneered the first voice, the one of the blonde haired boy as far as Amy could tell.

" I see yours isn't either," the second voice said evenly, looking over the first boy's shoulder. Amy tried to hide, but wasn't quick enough. She saw the boy's eyes lock on hers and expand in surprise, which he quickly covered up by looking right back at the figure in front of him, but not before she could intake his features. On his head was a mop of unruly jet black hair, and deep green eyes behind glasses. Amy didn't even need to guess who this was.

"What makes you think you won't end up like last time?" he said, obviously amused, the tone of his voice obviously trying to set off his opponent. It worked.

"You come and you walk around like you own the show, and I'm going to show you just how wrong you are, Potter."

"Step off while you still have both legs, Malfoy," Harry said in the same tone. This proved Amy's suspicions correct; it was the old Potter-Malfoy argument that used have been amusing on paper,  
but a lot more nerve racking in real life. She knew that Malfoy had his wand, but Harry had nothing against it. She also knew that Harry knew, and was just stalling for time, waiting for a miracle to happen. Plus, they were one on one, and Malfoy clearly had all the advantages.

_But they're not one on one_, she realized, _I'm here too_! On impulse, like she'd done it thousands of times before, Amy reached into her pocket, and grabbed out her very own wand. _YES!_ thought Amy, _now if I could just use it_. _Icneramei,_ the operator's voice said as smoothly as ever. But no sooner had she completed the thought, than a small, blue light began to come out of the end of her wand, slowly growing and growing, until it reached roughly the size of an inflated ball. Then, all of a sudden, it launched itself at Malfoy, who didn't even have enough time to turn around before the spell hit him squarely in between his shoulder blades and he crumpled onto the ground, unconscious.

For a few seconds, both Amy and Harry stared at Malfoy's limp body between them, Amy in shock, Harry obviously impressed, looking up first.

"That was some pretty advanced stuff," he said, apparently trying to make conversation.

Amy looked at him in pure puzzlement. "I didn't know I could do that," she wiped away a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Well, lots of us don't know what we can do until we're put under real pressure," he said," I thought I'd be dead for sure," he gave Amy a joking lop-sided grin, "now I'll have to start carrying Dark Detectors to the loo."

Amy smiled and raised her eyebrows, "Dung Detectors would work for him too," then realizing added, "I'm Amelia Clairtonare, by the way, but you'll wind up same as Malfoy if you call me that, so to you, I'm Amy."

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry introduced himself, waiting for the flick of the eyes to the scar, but it didn't come. Amy, like any faithful reader, knew too well that that was one thing Harry couldn't stand, and instead simply stated,

"Cool. So you're in what year, sixth?"

Harry, still obviously a bit surprised, answered automatically, "Yeah, you?"

The metallic voice kicked in again: _sixth._ "Sixth."

Harry looked puzzled, "I've never seen you before though." _Oh no_, Amy groaned, _why did I say sixth, why? Because you are supposed to be in fifth, but you skipped a year_, the voice recited.

"I...I skipped a year, I'm supposed to be in fifth," Amy replied, maybe a little too hastily.

"Oh," Harry said obviously believing her and giving the question no second thought. "So...," he trailed off and looking uncomfortably at the ground.

"So...," Amy encouraged, sensing whatever it was, Harry wasn't too comfortable on the subject.

"So… I'll see you around then," he said more to the floor than to Amy. The butterflies that had started flittering around in her chest suddenly dropped like stones to the bottom of her stomach; she had been sure Harry was about to say something else.

"Yeah- Yeah, you too," Amy said, stuffing the wand back into her robes. She gave him an awkward smile and almost tripped over Malfoy as she turned to go. _Very nice_, the sarcastic tone in her head remarked.

When she got back to her compartment, she collapsed onto the bench, fatigued like she hadn't expected, but still not able to sleep. She had gotten so into everything she hadn't even had time to be shocked. There were so many unanswered questions hovering around her head, each with no answer.

Was this a dream or some sort of twisted reality? And the voice; what exactly was it and why was it there? And to begin with, who was HMD that wanted her here, and why her?

She sank into a fitful type of half-sleep, constantly interposed by flying books and flashes of bright lights that erupted from them, swallowing her over and over again, sending her falling into a darkbeyond, where the disembodied metallic voice echoed in an acrid, heartless laugh.

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Okay, I know the Hogwarts Train NEVER travels at night, but then, most of the stuff in the chapter couldn't happen. Oh, right, and I hope you've guessed it IS the Hogwarts Train, because I kinda didn't mention that. And the chapter came to an abrupt halt b/c i realized that i was DEEPLY out of things to say, since nothing else exciting really happens until Hogwarts.

The good news: I ran out of sugarless gum. The bad news: it seems like that hadn't been my problem; I'm pretty off my rocker as it is.

PLZ R&R!


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